


That Holiday Nostalgia

by rubberupandmakeitstarker



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 06:59:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16035341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberupandmakeitstarker/pseuds/rubberupandmakeitstarker
Summary: Peter and Tony have been sitting on the over-used couch in Peter’s grandmother’s tiny living room for the better part of three hours. The warm haze of Thanksgiving conversation buzzes around them, their plates of food lie forgotten on the coffee table, a movie plays noisily on the TV. Tony’s arm hangs lazily on the back of the couch, the pads of his fingers dusting through the little hairs on Peter’s neck. Peter’s cheeks are pink, the familiar, fuzzy feeling of nostalgia in his belly contaminated by another equally familiar, fuzzy feeling. This mix is often associated with Tony, and have been since Peter hit puberty. Peter looks at Tony under his lashes. Tony meets him with a smirk.





	1. Thanksgiving

Peter and Tony have been sitting on the over-used couch in Peter’s grandmother’s tiny living room for the better part of three hours. The warm haze of Thanksgiving conversation buzzes around them, their plates of food lie forgotten on the coffee table, a movie plays noisily on the TV. Tony’s arm hangs lazily on the back of the couch, the pads of his fingers dusting through the little hairs on Peter’s neck. Peter’s cheeks are pink, the familiar, fuzzy feeling of nostalgia in his belly contaminated by another equally familiar, fuzzy feeling. This mix is often associated with Tony, and have been since Peter hit puberty. Peter looks at Tony under his lashes. Tony meets him with a smirk.

As the majority of the family moves outside, cool November air nipping through the glass door, Tony stands, stretching.

“I should probably be going home soon.” He says, smiling pleasantly down at Peter. “I had fun talking to you, Sport.”

Peter springs to his feet, murmuring, “Do you have to go now, Uncle Tony? Can’t you stay just a little longer?”

“Why don’t you show him your old collection of baseball cards?” Peter’s grandmother asks as she clears the counters of pilfered food containers. “You like baseball, don’t you, Peter?”

“Yeah, I love baseball!” Peter says cheerfully. He doesn’t.

Tony takes a look at his watch, shifting his eyes back to Peter with a small smile. “Alright, really fast.”

Sitting on Tony’s bed, looking through an ancient stack of cards, Peter can’t bring himself to pay attention to what Tony is saying about any given player. Peter’s eyes stay honed in on Tony’s lips, though, staring down every movement until he finds himself leaning in closer, to get a closer look, to hear Tony’s voice a little clearer, to press a kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth.

Tony stops talking, looking at Peter with amusement. “What was that?”

Peter swallows, the confidence driving the kiss rushing out of his sails. “I, ah, there was, you had some food on your mouth?”

Tony blinks, repressing laughter. “Oh. I thought it was a kiss, but you were a little off. A kiss would be more like…” Tony leans into Peter’s space, planting his lips firmly on Peter’s. He tastes like gravy and soft mints. Tony smiles. “Like that.”

“Oh.” Peter says quietly. “I liked that.”

“Yeah?” Tony asks, his arm reaching back to turn the lock on the door.

“Yeah.” Peter echoes, more confident as he leans into Tony’s mouth, this time not pulling away for several seconds, not until his lungs burn with a lack of air and the soft smacking of their lips indicates an uncomfortable dryness. Peter finally draws back, breathing labored.

Tony passes his tongue over his lower lip, his eyes locked onto Peter’s. He doesn’t have to look to know that he is hard, his flushed cheeks and his hands stuffing into his lap tell him as much. “I really need to go soon.”

“I want to suck your cock.”

Tony’s brows fly up. “What do you know about sucking cock? What are you, seventeen?”

“Sixteen.” Peter corrects, sliding off the edge of the bed and onto his knees. “And I know enough. Kids at school think so, anyway.”

Tony chuckles darkly as his belt clinks open, his pants following soon after. Tony sighs quietly when Peter takes his head in his mouth. “Well, I’ll be the judge of that.”

Peter sets to work proving himself, maintaining eye contact as he takes the whole of Tony’s length down his throat. He chokes quietly, tears pricking his eyes, but he presses on, moving smoothly.

Tony finally groans softly after a while, watching Peter’s eyes slip closed suddenly. Tony notes the movement of Peter’s shoulder and smirks. “Oh, is this doing it for you?”

“Mm-hm.” Peter hums, his voice a bit higher than normal. He feels Tony’s warm, sock-clad foot push his hand away from his crotch, and Peter welcomes the solid pressure to press into.

It doesn’t take either of them long from there. Tony is the first to go, Peter’s little noises bubbling over his cock and the way he can barely hold a solid rhythm causing Tony to spill over Peter’s tongue. Peter coughs, and Tony half expects him to spit onto the floor, but he recovers and swallows easily enough.

Peter allows Tony’s cock to fall wetly from his mouth, folding his arms over Tony’s lap and lying his head on Tony’s knees as he ruts into his foot. “Oh, ohh shit-“

“Shh,” Tony says, again dusting his fingers over the back of Peter’s neck, noting the way goose bumps flare over the skin. He thinks Peter might rather enjoy a bite. Maybe over Christmas. “People are still out there. Don’t need anyone realizing we’re gone.”

Peter nods vacantly, his hips trembling as he moves faster. The position is awkward, his cock slightly pinched in the fabric of his underwear under the pressure of Tony’s foot. But he is warm, so warm, and he is edging closer with every rotation of his hips, and he thinks he can get there if he just… keeps…

Tony smiles when Peter’s hips finally stutter, stumbling forward for a few more clumsy thrusts as he rides out his orgasm. Peter shouts wetly, the sound muted into Tony’s knee. Peter finally stills, peeking up at Tony shyly, a toothy little grin on his face.

When they finally leave the room, Peter is wearing a pair of underwear from Tony’s drawer. It turns out that Peter’s grandma never removed the clothes, and Peter is the perfect size to fit them. The soiled underwear remains under the bed among boxes of cards, dusty books, and likely other crumpled bits of fabric in a similar state. Tony hugs Peter goodbye before he leaves.

“See you at Christmas, kid.”

“I hope so, Uncle Tony.” Peter gives Tony a peck on the cheek. Others around them coo at how sweet Peter is, and Tony leaves before they can notice the heat rising to his cheeks.


	2. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas sweeps in right behind Thanksgiving, the same faces in a different house. Peter and Tony make the effort not to spend too much time together this time, occasionally breaking away to visit their “appropriate” family age groups. Tony sits through the drone of adult conversation, listening to which relatives aren’t doing so well, who is having a new baby, which cousin is sleeping around on their spouse. Tony passes a look at Peter, huddled in the carpet with his cousins, playing what sounds like a heated game of UNO. Peter meets his eyes. His lips twitch upward as he darts his eyes away. Tony smiles and turns back to the conversation, putting on his best scandalized face when he is informed by one of his in-laws that a teacher at their child’s school is sleeping with the teenage students. “Unthinkable.” He says. “How could someone do something like that?” It’s everything he can do not to smirk.

Christmas sweeps in right behind Thanksgiving, the same faces in a different house. Peter and Tony make the effort not to spend too much time together this time, occasionally breaking away to visit their “appropriate” family age groups. Tony sits through the drone of adult conversation, listening to which relatives aren’t doing so well, who is having a new baby, which cousin is sleeping around on their spouse. Tony passes a look at Peter, huddled in the carpet with his cousins, playing what sounds like a heated game of UNO. Peter meets his eyes. His lips twitch upward as he darts his eyes away. Tony smiles and turns back to the conversation, putting on his best scandalized face when he is informed by one of his in-laws that a teacher at their child’s school is sleeping with the teenage students. “Unthinkable.” He says. “How could someone do something like that?” It’s everything he can do not to smirk.

A few hours in, after everyone has eaten, the younger children climb the walls to play outside. Their parents are obligated to follow along, and with them follow all but a few others. The easy, warm lull of inside takes over, and Tony and Peter find themselves sitting on another couch. Football blares out of the TV. Others in the room commentate on the game. A few people in the kitchen hold light conversation as they put away food. Peter’s head is lagging back into Tony’s arm, sleep threatening to take him until Tony stands.

Tony looks at Peter for a split second as he walks in the direction of the bathroom down the hall. Peter represses a smile, waiting patiently before he follows along a few minutes later. Nobody notices their absence.

Peter closes and locks the door as he enters the spare bedroom, smiling sheepishly at Tony sprawled across the bed.

“Want to take a nap? You seem tired.” Tony asks, gesturing his hand for Peter to come closer.

Peter hops on the bed, vacillating between straddling Tony’s hips and cuddling into his side. He opts for his side. “No, I’m awake. I don’t want to sleep.”

“What if it’s with me?”

Peter giggles quietly and tilts his head back to catch Tony’s lips. This time is a little less hurried than the first, Peter taking the time to pause and breathe every once in a while. Peter makes a little noise when Tony shifts, his warm body swallowing Peter’s as he straddles him.

“Are you still practicing at school?” Tony asks between kisses, his hands wandering up Peter’s shirt.

“Mm-hm.” Peter hums. His legs wrap around Tony’s thighs, encouraging him to put more weight on him, to press their hips closer together.

“And how do  _you_  like to be sucked off?” Tony whispers in Peter’s ear when he finally pulls away. His lips tease at Peter’s lobe.

Peter squeaks at the contact. “I- they don’t suck me. I suck them… for money.”

Tony kisses his way down Peter’s neck, living for the way Peter squirms and whimpers in response. “Don’t do that. Teenagers are gross; you’re going to catch something.”

Peter huffs a small laugh. “How else am I going to make money, Uncle Tony?”

For some reason  _Get a job, dumbass_  isn’t what immediately falls out of Tony’s mouth, and instead he says, “I’ll give you money. Sucking my dick is optional.” Peter giggles quietly, but doesn’t shut the idea down. Tony finally sinks his teeth into Peter’s neck, already prepared when he has to slap a hand over his mouth to keep him from crying out. He is careful not to leave any marks, edging along Peter’s skin and leaving little nips behind.

Peter pants through his nose, Tony’s hand over his mouth keeping him more or less silent. It isn’t long before Peter can’t bear the pressure building in his body anymore, and his hips rise into Tony’s, begging for attention. “Tony,  _please_.” Peter tries to say, the words nothing more than noises against Tony’s palm.

Tony can tell he’s being rushed by Peter’s insistent tone. “Just a little more, it’s really cute that this gets you going.” Tony smirks when Peter narrows his eyes at him, but the soft cry that Peter gives when he is back on his neck lets him know that he’s not too mad. When he has finally had enough, Tony kisses down Peter’s front, removing his hand from his mouth and going for the button of his jeans.

Peter helps Tony kick them down his thighs, not daring take them off completely in case they need to make a speedy exit. His cock lies hard against his stomach, and he blushes when Tony looks him over. “You don’t, ah, have to do that, if you don’t want to.”

Tony snorts as he lowers down to Peter’s lap. “Don’t choose now to get shy, Petey.” Tony pauses at his own words before he meets Peter’s eyes, his voice softer as he says, “If  _you_  don’t want this, we can stop.”

“Oh, god no, I want it.” Peter murmurs. “I just want you to want it.”

“So now that we are clear that we both want it…” Tony finally takes Peter in his mouth. He hears a smothered moan, and he looks up to see Peter’s face buried in the crook of his arm, his red, fuzzy sweater absorbing the bulk of his volume.

Tony didn’t expect Peter to be difficult to please. If it weren’t for Peter’s muffled sobs, or the rocking of his hips, or the arching of his back, Tony would still be able to tell Peter is close by the suddenly copious amount of precum that coats his tongue. Peter’s body suddenly freezes, and Tony is worried that there might be something wrong until Peter starts spitting urgent warnings at him, trying and failing to pull his hips away.

“M’-m’ gonna-Tony-!” Peter babbles into his sleeve, unable to stop his hips from lurching when he finally comes. The feel of his own fluid surrounding his cock inside Tony’s mouth is going to be masturbation fuel for months, and he sags into the bed with a heavy sigh. “You want me to-? Here, let me-“

“Shh,” Tony hushes, moving up Peter’s body to sit astride his chest when he tries to sit up. “Right here is perfect, just like that.” Tony pulls out his cock and jerks himself in front of Peter’s face, the sight of Peter’s flushed, huffy, glassy-eyed existence more than enough to get Tony over the edge.

Peter is ready, his mouth open and eyes closed, humming softly when Tony hastily shoves himself into his mouth and spills with a harsh grunt.

Their return to the rest of the family had to be a little sneakier, Peter being the first to return. Tony strolls down the opposite end of the hallway, finding his way outside before he returns to the living room.

Peter is the one who has to go home first this time, and again he gives Tony a deceivingly innocent kiss on the cheek. But this time nobody is watching, all caught up in their own goodbyes, and nobody catches it when Peter murmurs, “I don’t want to wait until next Thanksgiving to see you again, Uncle Tony.”

Tony purses his lips, pulling out his wallet to retrieve Peter one of his business cards. “You like working with computers?”

“Yeah.” Peter says as he takes the card and pushes it into his pocket. He doesn’t.

“Text me later.” Tony says with a smirk. “I can give you some programming lessons. There’s a lot of money in it.”

“Is there?” Peter asks under his breath, not expecting or receiving an answer. He hugs Tony’s neck before he leaves, trying not to wear a giddy smile  _all_ the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: http://rubberupandmakeitstarker.tumblr.com/


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